


Funeral For A Friend

by ScullyLovesQueequeg



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Complete, Ficlet, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-03
Updated: 2013-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullyLovesQueequeg/pseuds/ScullyLovesQueequeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully attends a funeral and thinks bout her own short stay on the planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Funeral For A Friend

She’s so frail and thin that it’s a miracle that she could even get out of bed, much less make it to the service. Bill is angry; he doesn’t understand, and rightfully so, how could he? Margret understands and she goes with her daughter, because she knows that there is something between them, somewhere past the late nights spent in the car. There has to be something in the fact that her daughter hasn’t seen any men since her partner chased away all her interest in them, years ago. Maybe it’s the fact that he lets Margret call him Fox and doesn’t correct her, and allows Bill to talk down on him. Maybe that’s the proof that there is a deeper connection, like the one between spouses. Margret knows that it means everything to Scully to be there, and of course, she wants her daughter’s own inevitable end to be as comfortable as possible.  
  
Scully has to stay in the back because it’s close to the door; her mother is afraid she will collapse. She is standing now, because she isn’t finished paying her respect. The room is not very populated; his mother is there and she is crying because _how could this be happening_? This time the casket is open because there is a body in there; Scully had already looked and saw Mulder there, his face pale, with discoloring on the side, and now she wonders if anyone is going to ask her:  _why weren’t you there for him?_  
  
"Why isn’t this a catholic funeral?" Her mother asks tugging on the end of Scully’s simple dress. Scully eases her way into the seat, the motion taking so much effort that she has to pause because her head is throbbing.  
  
"Suicide," She says numbly, her lids taking an extra effort to push out the tears that were welling in her eyes. "He didn’t believe in God, anyways." Her mother is silent, but she pushes something into her daughter’s lap. When Scully looks down, a beaded rosary unfurls in her lap. She looks at her mother, unsure of what to do with the gift.

"For him," Her mother says, with a small, sad smile. "From me." 

Scully says nothing.

She feels nothing.

She knows that she will probably not be long after him, and that the same amount of people here, will be there when she passes. Somehow, that doesn’t make her sad. What makes her sad is the thought that no one will feed his fish. The tearful message on her machine he leaves her does not evoke any tears of her own; the thought of shutting off the heat in his apartment does. Who is going to take care of it when she goes?

_When_   _she goes_. It’s only  matter of time now. Her hands tremble, and she takes the rosary, running her fingers over the red beads. Her mother can see she is trying not to cry.

"Do you think—do you think he knew?" Scully asks, and her mother doesn’t know what she means because how could anyone know what is going through her mind?

"Honey, I know he cared about you a lot. When you were unconscious, he came by everyday and stayed as long as the nurses let him. You said he doesn’t believe in God, but he held your necklace for you. He wore it all the time. When he spoke about you, his eyes lit up, the way people’s do when they’re in love. I didn’t know much about him, but I know he cared."

"I know he cared," She says, lowering her eyes, and using a trembling hand to wipe away the tears that streaked her face. "I cared about him too. But I don’t think he knew that he was more than just someone I worked with…"

"Oh Dana—"

"Mom—" Her voice breaks, and she presses the back of her still trembling hand to her mouth and speaks in a hushed tone, "he was my friend, maybe even more than that. I don’t know."

"I think he knew. You two were very close…" Her mother says, but Scully doesn’t hear it because she is wondering about his desk. They will probably close the X-Files, like another chapter in a book that will never be read again, and life will continue as though Mulder hadn’t existed.

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine prompted me to write about what would happen if Scully were to attend Mulder's funeral and this happened.


End file.
